Dessert Deal
by embers3
Summary: Thor and Loki are left on Midgard to "learn from the mortals." Neither one of them is interested. But what sort of deal will the brothers make to insure they both avoid punishment? Set hundreds of years before the main events of 'Thor.' One-Shot. No slash. Loki's POV.


_A/N- Hello everyone! So this is my very first piece of fanfiction ever written. I have to say, I thought fanfiction would be easier than writing regular fiction, but it is very hard to stay within the boundaries of the character! That said, I would really appreciate any feedback, tips, helpful criticism, etc.. I want to do Thor, Loki, and co. justice, so suggestions would be awesome! :)_

_This one-shot takes place hundreds of years before the events of 'Thor'. At this point, Thor and Loki would be the equivalent of fifteen/sixteen year old boys. I tried to write them as such, while still staying true to their characters._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki, Odin, Marvel, or anything in the Marvel universe. I'm just a huge fan. :)_

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Dessert Deal

Has Father lied, or is Midgard truly as resilient as it appears? There are no towers of ice, no oceans turned to frosty mirrors, no gray and shadowy lands. Instead, rolling plains of emerald grass stretch before my eyes. Blue skies protect the land beneath like a comforting blanket, with wisps of pure white softening the light filtering throughout. A bird harmonizes with the barely audible breeze as effortlessly as Mjolnir does with my brother's meaty fist. I don't see a village or township or any evidence of mortal life, but I can barely make out the sound of a rushing stream nearby. Taking into account the serenity of the weather and the workable land, I assume there must be one nearby.

If, indeed, the Midgardians survived the war and ice age initiated by the Frost Giants.

"It's beautiful," I murmur beneath my breath.

"It's boring," Thor replies. I raise an eyebrow at him. He doesn't notice my silent question. He turns towards Father. "Where are the people who need our aid? Have the other enemies utterly destroyed them?"

"What are you asking, my son?" Father says steadily. A quiet smirk dons his lips. I cannot help rolling my eyes with affection, and perhaps a bit of scorn. He finds Thor's brash questions amusing. I often do as well, but at the moment, he's being rather annoying.

"Look around you!" Thor waves his arm, gesturing wildly towards the majestic countryside behind us. "A land as large and plentiful as this must surely have attracted the attention of an enemy. The mortals, you and the legends say, are weak and helpless-like babes just learning to walk. With an ice age as large as those monsters placed upon them … the mortals could not possibly have survived on their own!"

"So you think that they were conquered by others?" Father summarizes.

"Yes."

"And you think thus because you do not believe the mortals are capable of fixing their own land?"

"Yes."

Father pauses for a long moment. What could he say next? To be honest, I am as curious as Thor on this matter. Just as curious, but not just as bland. I would have asked a bit more eloquently. I suppose those who beg cannot be among those who choose. The younger brother does not get the benefit of perpetual blandness.

I smirk wryly at my internal dialogue, then silence my thoughts to listen to Father's next words. "Do you think yourself above them?"

The question startles me slightly, though I do not show it. Think ourselves above them?

Thor's words echo my thoughts. "Why yes."

"And you are correct to do so," Father replies. "When it applies to nearly everything. But there is one area the mortals surpass us all."

Thor stands silent. He drops Mjolnir and runs a hand through his hair. Apparently, he is still dwelling on the fact that the mortals are better than Asgardians at...something. "What do they surpass us in, Father?" I ask.

Still looking at Thor, Father replies, "They surpass us in their ability to rebuild. To fix. To start again."

Thor cocks his head to the side, a gesture reminiscent of a mutt whose toy has been taken from him. Father explains, "Mortals live short, fast lives. Lives that are but a thread in the great tapestry of life. The stem of a leaf on Yggdrasil. This makes them weak. But it also makes them strong. They are quick to start anew because they know that if they do not, they will waste the bit of time they have left."

Father waits for a reply-Thor's reply. I think on his words. Time has always been a fascinating notion to me. Thor and I have not even been alive for one century, and yet, we have both lived nearly twice as long as the average mortal. I still feel young and naïve on rare occasions. What must it be like for the mortals? Do they feel young their entire life? Or are they forced to make recompense for their short time and mature faster? Does that, then, make them wiser than myself and Thor? Perhaps that was poor wording. Does that, then, make them wiser than myself? Sometimes, I believe a rabbit could be wiser than Thor.

I brush the cogitation to the back of my mind. I have centuries to think on such matters, and this is a rather paltry one to waste _my _time on. After all, I shall never have a need to understand the mortals. Or rabbits.

Thor finally sighs his reply. "So you mean to tell me there are no enemies to fight?"

Father chuckles. Thor heightens his mock pout, sticking his bottom lip out in a perfect imitation of Freya, goddess of love and fertility. Or, as Thor and I know her, the witless wench.

I laugh aloud. Father shakes his head and hides a smile, then lightly reprimands Thor. "Do not mock Lady Freya, my son. Someday, you may meet someone who you will love. You would not want it to end in tragedy."

"I have no plans to fall in love, Father!" Thor guffaws.

"None do," Father replies. I hide a grin. He's replying in those short, vague answers again. He's been hanging out with Heimdall.

He turns to me and frowns, concerned. I work harder on hiding my smile. Father says, "Loki, I do not want any mischief, do you understand?"

"Of course, Father," I answer, but with a quirk of an eyebrow at him. Why ask me this now? What is he planning?

"Thor, take care of your brother. Heimdall will be awaiting you both to call."

"What of you?" I ask.

"I'm returning to Asgard. You two have a single task from me. Learn from the mortals. Heimdall!" The last word Father shouts into the air, causing Thor and I to take several steps back.

A burst of blue light cuts through the sky above, striking the earth with the sound of thunder and hurricanes. Thor and I scramble away from the light, watching as it swirls and twists around our Father. A flash of purple reflects off the golden eyepatch, causing me to blink as a gust of wind bursts through the air. A beam of light emits from father as he dissolves and travels upward into the Bifrost. The twisting clouds of the supernatural tornado last for several more seconds, before shaking into nothingness.

Thor and I stare up into the sky where Father disappeared. It has returned to its natural blue and the clouds continue to float lazily along the breeze. The only noticeable difference is the intricate knot design left by the Bifrost, and the silence. Something must have happened to the bird.

I smile at the thought of some hapless bird floating through the Bifrost and finding itself in the dome of the Rainbow Bridge, facing down stony Heimdall and stoic Odin All-Father. Then I picture the two trying to catch the frightened creature to send it back, their thick physiques stumbling and their capes flapping chaotically in their futile attempts. I actually laugh aloud at the image!

"What is funny, brother?" Thor questions, turning to me with a grin.

Instead of attempting to explain-it will merely turn into one of those stories that cannot be humorous once spoken aloud-I invent a different, and much more plausible, explanation for my sudden bout of hilarity. "Father has left us, alone, on Midgard."

"I noticed the fact also, but it did not reduce me to giggles," Thor says with a laugh.

"You noticed perhaps, but you did not comprehend. Think of all the _fun _we could have!"

Thor grabs Mjolnir from the ground and begins to examine the handle. He smiles. "You mean mischief, do you not?"

I shrug. "Naturally."

"What of your promise to Father?"

"I told him I understood what he was saying, not that I would do anything about that understanding." I grin at the explanation.

"You, brother, are bold!" Thor says with a loud laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. I shove him away and chuckle. Thor continues, "But Father would not approve."

"You said but moments ago that you had noticed father leaving us here...alone. Have you forgotten the fact already? He's not here. He need not know." I remark, smirking at my elder brother.

Thor tosses a lock of golden hair out of his eyes with a contemplative huff. He fingers the strap on Mjolnir, his opposite fist clenching repeatedly. I smirk. He doesn't want to learn from the mortals any more than I do. He probably wants to find an open field where he can practice his "flying" abilities. Or perhaps he wants to create a monstrous thunderstorm to frighten a herd of cattle.

"I propose a deal," Thor says suddenly.

I'm surprised by the offer. Thor rarely proposes deals. He usually tries to solve everything by hitting it. I nod for him to continue.

"If you agree to use some of your magic to cloak me from Heimdall's eyes, I will not tell Father of any mischief you cause." Thor smiles, clearly quite proud of his little deal.

I smile at the obvious detail he forgot to mention. I'll wait for him to think of it. "Anything else?"

He shakes his head. "I do not believe so, brother."

I nod. "I accept your deal. I suppose, then, that when we return to Asgard you will want to borrow my horse? She is faster than yours, you know."

His brow creases. "Why would I want to do that?"

"As soon as I inform Father of any mischief _you_ might have caused..."

"Brother, no!" Thor shouts, tackling me playfully to the ground. There's the 'problem+hitting=solved' thought pattern again. I ought to talk to him about that someday.

I summon my magic and blast him with a sudden light. He yelps and leaps to his feet, giving me time to cloak myself with invisibility and scramble away. "Loki! Do not tell Father! I will change the deal, you cannot tell Father...or anyone!"

I laugh directly behind him, causing him to spin and raise Mjolnir above his head. I rush to the side-my feet sweeping lightly over the swaying grass, not making a noise.

"What do I get out of it?" I ask.

Thor thinks for several moments. When he speaks again, he looks stricken. As if someone had just painted Mjolnir bright pink.

Bright pink...hmmm...

Thor mumbles something.

"What was that?" I ask.

He spins towards my voice. He clears his throat and begins again, "I said...youcomaydesmaybe..."

I rush behind him again. Concentrating on the spells deep within my mind, I attempt to throw an image of myself in front of Thor. It works. A perfect image of myself is standing directly in front of Thor. He chuckles when he spots it. I groan. The image is completely stiff and makes no movement, not even breathing. It looks like an oversized puppet of myself. I close my eyes harder and try to animate it. It would be funny to respond to Thor through my image, even though he already knows it's not the real me. As soon as I concentrate though, the invisibility cloak explodes in my mind, throwing me backwards several feet.

Thor spins and laughs, rushing towards me to help me up. I curse and glare at the double image, which is now taking deep, abnormal breaths. The arms raise above the head every time it "inhales." And why in Valhalla is it balancing on one leg? Thor guffaws at the image. I wave my hand and erase the double.

I turn my attention back to Thor, who is still laughing at the defective double. Well. It's not like I haven't seen him get embarrassed on the battlefield. Just the other day he nearly got bested by Sif, a mere twenty-year old _maiden_.

"I still did not hear you," I point out.

Thor instantly stops laughing. His face becomes grave and he grips my shoulders, as if we were in the middle of writing a will or signing away a fortune. "If you do not tell anyone what I do here and you cloak me from Heimdall, then I will not tell anyone of your adventures and you can...have my dessert."

I stop smirking. This is important. I raise an eyebrow. "Oh? For how long?"

"...a week?" Thor asks.

I shake my head.

"...a fortnight?" He tries.

I smirk. No.

"...a month?" He nearly whimpers.

"Deal," I clap his shoulder, slide out from his grip-which has turned deadly at this point- and begin walking in the direction where a village most likely lies. I can't help but chuckle at how the deal turned out. I clearly got the better end of it.

"Loki, wait!" Thor calls. I turn and look at him. He shouts, "Won't Mother grow suspicious when she sees me giving you my dessert...for an entire month?"

I laugh. "You should have thought of that earlier!"

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_Please R&R! Thanks for reading! :)_


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